


Off.

by Fleshwerks



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:11:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8579842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleshwerks/pseuds/Fleshwerks
Summary: The Inquisitor decides to seduce the Commander - a prompt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's a prompt I got way back when. At first I thought '???'. Then I thought, hell, why not.

Cullen had never been the type he’d go for, but he supposed he had his charm. Some just liked them blonde, pretty and simple. But under the circumstances, anyone would do, and the Commander himself had, for once, followed the advice of his peers, and shed that silverite carapace and the fur-collared crimson cloak he’d always hide under.

But tonight he’d nearly lost again, ingloriously so, though he seemed more used to the nudity than the first time.

 _Nothing you lot have ever seen before,_ he’d quipped, diving into his tankard.

One by one the players departed, clad in the motley suits of winners and losers, each wearing something from someone else. But all Cullen Rutherford had left was a pair of pants that hours ago had been worn under several other pairs of trousers - a necessary precaution, he’d said.

Spiridon leaned back. The hearth light was dying, but he wasn’t ready to be alone with himself yet, and the buzz of wine had come with a flood of thoughts he’d tried to drown with it. The stripped commander had to wait, but to his surprise, the man who had always been cordial and cold around him sat back, relaxed, switching the ale tankard out for brandy from a brass mug.

 _Getting tired of dashing for the outhouse,_ he said, lifted the mug for a toast and then brought it to his lips. Spiridon did the same with his own drink.

 _I think it is time to address the druffalo in the room,_ Cullen continued.

 _Which one?_ Spiridon scoffed.

_Adamant Fortress._

Spiridon sighed and refilled his wooden mug.

C _ommander, I’ve reiterated that story so many times that I don’t particularly care about dissecting that shit show again. Gives me a headache. But you? Go ahead. You were there too, templar boy. Can’t imagine you sleeping sound after seeing what the Warden mages pulled._ Spiridon was prying. He bore no love for mages nor the power they wielded - the power no being of the earth should have - but Cullen had a history. Kinloch, Kirkwall. And he was in a sour mood, so plucking at healing scars felt perversely thrilling.

 _I’ve reiterated that so many times that I don’t particularly care about dissecting it again,_ Cullen replied, mirroring his sentiment, and carefully sipped from his cup, wincing as it burned when it went down his throat wrong.

 _Mm_ , Spiridon agreed, now letting his gaze rest on the Commander’s wide chest. No, still not the flavour of man he hungered for, but nothing was as it should be anymore, and Spiridon had long since given up on what he wanted and learned to find brief pleasures in what he was given.

So they talked. Skirted the incident at Adamant, prying at fraying threads coming looser after each sip. How the fear of magic grew on their bones like Tellari moss. How the world was full of it, how it spread, how it almost seemed more at home in this world than any mundane mortal did, its only crime was thriving despite the efforts to curb it. And what were men like them to do, then? Now they’d both seen how terrible such power entrusted to a mere mortal can be, and so they drank and toasted for the mages, for themselves, and the inevitable.

–

 _Cullen,_ Spiridon said clearly, voice low.

 _Inquisitor?_ the commander replied, his cup hand wavering inches from his face.

 _How come you’ve never made eyes at me?_ Spiridon asked, leaning back, gaze fixed on his. It felt like his nose was on fire. Melting off. The morning was going to be rough.

Cullen’s eyes widened in surprise, but no word escaped from him. He put the mug down and folded his fingers.

 _I think.._ he wiped his nose. The commander was a good deal more sober than him. Too sober to go with it. Too buzzed to excuse himself and bolt.

_I think, considering our.. um. Positions. In the Inquisition. Any such contact would be highly inappropriate._

Spiridon looked down at his chest as Cullen rose from the table and emptied his cup in one swig. He looked up at the commander, crossed his arms and stretched his long legs out under the table.

 _Inappropriate. Huh. Well, what’s wrong with me?_ there it was, the mean spirit again, determined to make the always composed commander uncomfortable. He did not look forward to slowly ambling back to his quarters, dreaming of demons and pedestals toppled again. And he was horny.

To his surprise, Cullen’s shoulders relaxed and chin rose.

_There’s nothing wrong with you, Inquisitor. You’re a decen–…. well-meaning man. But I am sure you’ll understand why I won’t be entertaining the idea of courting, well, the Inquisitor._

And yet he didn’t leave either, but sat down on the edge of the table, shirtless, shoeless as he was.

 _I look like a man who’s interested in courting to you?_ Spiridon said, a little colder, and snatched the wine mug from the table, emptying it to the bottom.

 _No, you don’t,_ Cullen replied and lowered his head, gazing into the the clasped hands in his lap, the corner of his mouth twitching.

 _Well, then,_ Spiridon said, tilting his head, peering at the commander both mischievously and coldly.

 _Well then what?_ Cullen muttered, but did not avert his eyes this time.

Ah. Maybe the commander was like him. Maybe the commander had his own knots tied into his back, fastening the burden of command on a back not too fit to bear it.

He lowered his eyes on the commander’s remaining pair of pants and motioned at them with his head.

 _Take them off,_ he said.

Cullen’s eyebrows arched in surprise at the Inquisitor’s directness.

 _Excuse me?_ he said, unfolding his fingers, adjusting himself on the corner of the table to face him more easily.

 _One time offer,_ commander, Spiridon said with a smile that left his eyes wide and serious.

The commander scoffed, chuckled, then frowned, and shook his head. Finally, he turned to the Inquisitor again.

 _It goes without saying that none of this leaves this room?_ Cullen asked, expression hardening as he met the challenge.

 _Depends,_ Spiridon replied, picking at is hangnail.

_A little difficult to talk with a cock in my mouth, don’t you think?_


End file.
